


Open Wounds

by ChettaDrabbles (KOranges)



Series: Some Wounds Take Longer to Heal [1]
Category: Captain America (Comics), Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Hurt, Hurt No Comfort, M/M, Oops
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-13
Updated: 2017-06-13
Packaged: 2018-11-13 20:21:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11192709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KOranges/pseuds/ChettaDrabbles
Summary: There was a long list of people Steve could have guessed would be on his porch this late. Well, a long-ish list. But the one person he would never have guessed was standing there and it took all of Steve's willpower not to punch Bucky in the face.





	Open Wounds

**Author's Note:**

> Each of these drabbles are inspired by a prompt I received during an eight month long writing challenge. I'll only be sharing my favorites but every Tuesday & Thursday and I'll post a new one. The next few posts in a row will be this group of related drabbles.
> 
> Prompt: "Settle for me."

Steve was halfway through cleaning up his dinner when the knock at the door interrupted him. He wasn’t expecting anyone. Sam typically came by in the mornings. Tony and Rhodey and Bruce, they all called before they came over. Typically, because Pepper made them. If she was in Washington, DC then maybe they just decided to swing by. 

It wasn’t any of those people. 

“Holy shit.” Steve slammed the door shut before the person on the other side of it could speak. 

There were people who didn’t leave permanent scars, but permanent wounds. Marks that never healed. Never got better. Never stopped hurting. And one of Steve’s just knocked on his damn front door. He took a few steps back and rubbed a hand over his face. This was something he’d had literal nightmares about. This was the man who broke him into pieces so small that Steve didn’t even know if they’d fit back together. He was here. Right now. On his porch. Knocking on his front door. 

When the knock on the door came again, Steve nearly ripped it off the hinges to open it. The man on the other side of it jumped back a few feet from the ferociousness of it. “Get the fuck off of my porch, Bucky.” 

“Steve.” He started to protest but Steve slammed the door in his face. 

Steve walked back into his house and pretended that the man who walked out him years ago wasn’t banging on the door and giving all of his neighbors a damn good show. They’d live. None of them would judge Steve for what was going on. The Fury’s would ask questions but they’d understand. 

“Go away.” Steve called. 

“No.” Bucky said it simply. He sounded tired. Weak. 

“I’m not opening the damn door.” Steve snapped. 

“Then I’ll be out here all night.” Bucky countered. Steve rolled his eyes. But he knew that wasn’t an option. If he made too much noise… 

Steve ripped the door open again. 

“I have neighbors. They don’t need to see this. They don’t need you to keep them up all night with your antics.” Steve explained. “And I’m not letting you inside.” 

“Fine.” Bucky nodded. “Let’s do this right here.” 

Steve fought back a nasty comment. “Fine. What do you want?” 

“To talk to you.” Bucky answered. He held up a bag. “I brought wine and snacks?” 

It was about five years too late. Steve made a face. “Your timing is just a little off, Buck.” 

“I didn’t mean to leave it so long.” Bucky nodded, looking guilty. 

“Yeah, well, leaving is what you’re good at.” Steve nodded and moved to shut the door. 

“Stop.” Bucky put his foot in the way of the door. Steve was tempted to keep pushing it shut. 

The look on his face was one Steve recognized from the fights right before their relationship imploded. This was going to be a fight. That look meant there was no avoiding it at this point. The bull was in the china shop and damage was now inevitable. 

“What do you want to talk about?” Steve asked. 

“Us.” Bucky wasn’t looking at him. After a few seconds he did but only reluctantly. “Mikhail.” 

Steve felt the blow as if Bucky had physically struck him. “You don’t get to say his name.” 

“I’m in AA. I’m making amends.” Bucky continued. Steve snorted. 

“After five years this is the amend you feel you need to make?” He asked. 

“I hurt you. I didn’t mean to, but I did.” Bucky paused and took a breath. He looked up at Steve but all Steve could see was red. Bucky shuffled his feet and shrugged. “You don’t have to forgive me but part off this is me standing here and acknowledging that you were hurt. You were.” 

“We lost our son. Two months later you’re gone.” Steve shouted. “Of course, I was hurt.” 

“I didn’t have a choice.” Bucky said softly. 

“I saw the paperwork. They offered you compassionate leave. You could have stayed.” 

“Emotionally. I couldn’t stay. I wasn’t ready. I needed to go.” Bucky was running through all the excuses that Steve had already heard. They hadn’t helped then and they didn’t help now. 

“You told me I was suffocating you.” Steve reminded him. “That you didn’t want to be with me.” 

Bucky sighed and looked away. “I didn’t then. I needed time.” 

“So, what?” Steve snarled at him. “Now you’re ready? Ready to settle down? To settle for me?” 

Bucky stomped a little bit but gave an exasperated sigh. “It’s more complicated than that.” 

“Oh, really?” Steve’s fury was bubbling over. He couldn’t contain it. And Bucky was just staring at him all calm and collected. It only made Steve angrier. It only made everything worse. How dare he bare so calm and collected when all of this was his doing. Bucky’s fault. 

“I know we didn’t leave things in the best place.” Bucky reasoned. Steve glared at him. 

“You always had a way with understatements.” Steve snorted. 

“I know you never understood what I had to do.” Bucky continued. 

“You didn’t have to leave.” Steve snapped. Bucky looked as if he’d physically struck him. 

“I did.” Bucky shook his head emphatically. “I was dying.” 

“So was I.” Steve roared. 

“Not like me. You were coping. You were fine. I was falling apart.” Bucky defended. 

“And you’d know because you asked?” Steve challenged. 

“I needed to go. I was dying.” Bucky was screaming at the top of his lungs. “Why do you hate me for doing what I needed to survive?” 

“Because what I needed what was you.” Steve screamed back, getting close to his face. 

“What?” Bucky was just staring at him in shock. He didn’t even back up. 

“You have some idea of what was going on back then and it is wrong.” Steve told him. 

“You were coping.” Bucky protested, pointing a single accusatory finger at him. 

“I was covering.” Steve countered loudly, matching Bucky’s aggressive stance. “You fell to pieces so I didn’t get to. I had to be ok. We watched the son we adopted die a slow and painful death. You didn’t even try to keep it together. I had to be the one to stay strong and keep fighting. And you were being too much of a selfish bastard to see that I. Was. Dying. Too.” 

“Steve.” Bucky looked ill. 

“Don’t.” Steve snapped. 

They were just standing on the porch screaming. People were staring. So many of his neighbors had come out. Steve hadn’t realized how many of them. He put his hands over his face to hide the fact that he was dangerously close to crying. He could feel the tears building up but fought them back as much as he could. A few stubborn little shits managed to fight their way out. 

He had to get away. He couldn’t handle this. He couldn’t do it. Not now, not five years ago, not ever. Steve wasn’t built for this. He looked at Bucky and every cell in his body wanted him. But not like you craved a piece of chocolate or a glass of water. More like an alcoholic wanted a bottle of liquor or a former smoker wanting one more last cigarette. He knew it wasn’t healthy. He knew he shouldn’t. But as he stared at the man across from him all he did was want. Want to hit him. Want to force him into some place private to do some things that were hot and rough enough to cleanse him of this rotten feeling in his stomach. And Steve hated him for making him feel that. 

“Steve.” Bucky’s voice was a soft whimper. “I’m so sorry.” 

“Shut up.” Steve snarled. 

He yanked Bucky by his collar and slammed him against the post of the front porch, even lifting him several inches across the ground as they moved. The porch vibrated with the force that Steve used. The kiss was more of an attack than anything else and Steve felt the breath escape Bucky from the force of it. It was punishing. Painful. Steve bit Bucky’s lip hard enough to draw blood. He felt his hands move without his permission to the inside of Bucky’s shirt and forced them to stop. Forced himself to take a step back to the open door. 

“Get the fuck off of my porch.” Steve snapped. He locked the door behind him.


End file.
